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Post by KG on Jul 15, 2008 22:06:27 GMT
I AM A WESTERN OCEAN MARINER
THE NEW BOOK BY CAPTAIN JOE EARL.
A COLLECTION OF SEAFARING VERSE
(AND OTHER STUFF)
In special memory of his brother John 1930 - 2004
MY POETRY
I know it isn't poetry - it isn't even prose
I'm really very sorry if it travels up your nose
Shall we call it doggered?
What do you suppose
Joe Earl.
Reproduced with the kind permission of Captain Joe Earl, please contact the publishers / author if you wish to reproduce any of the works of Joe Earl.
We thank Joe for his continued friendship and indeed his support of "TREGENNA" . We are pleased to further support his old and new publications of his poems etc.
I am a Western Ocean Man includes the Tregenna related:
The Tregenna
The SS. Daybreak
The Paddle Steamer Barry
Barry Seamen
Barry Dock Loading Coal
Raymond Victor Steed
and so much more, we are indebted to Captain Joe Earl and support his past, current ad future works. Without doubt, we were pleased to meet up for the first time this year at the Barry Town Council presentation of the PS. Barry and hope that further projects will result in his immortalising the topic / subjects for all time.
Every respect Joe and thank you, wishing you all the best in all future ventures. Regards from all at "Tregenna". KG
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Post by Administrator on Jul 15, 2008 23:16:41 GMT
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Post by Administrator on Aug 31, 2008 18:55:50 GMT
MERCHANT NAVY DAY - September 3rd
Take a little care this day and glance above the tiles,
Perchance to see a flagpole visible for miles,
Atop of it a red flag proudly whipping tight,
A Merchant Navy ensign flying there by right.
From important buildings as well as from the sea.
It’s flown to honour mariners and shipping history,
Sailing through the years, transporting all the freight,
Conserving of the lifelines keeping Britain great.
If you glance aloft and see with knowing eye,
A `duster` at the masthead when you're passing by,
Please inform your offspring while going on to say,
A debt is owed to seamen under colours flown today.
Joe Earl 2008
We at Tregenna have full permission to use the works of Captain Joe Earl in tribute, we ask that you respect this work and contact us at Her Name Was SS. If you wish to reproduce any of the same, we will contact Joe on your behalf and request permission for you: hernamewas.ss@tiscali.co.uk
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Post by Administrator on Sept 22, 2008 19:37:21 GMT
The latest work from our good friend Captain Joe Earl: We feel it only fair that if you require to copy / use this poem in anyway, that you contact us via: hernamewas.ss@tiscali.co.uk We will contact Joe on your behalf and reply.
We again thank Captain Joe Earl for sharing his work with us.
TRAWLERMEN
I`d like to speak of Trawlermen that search the cruel seas,
Hunting for the fishes that dart off where they please,
To shoot the nets and haul `em in, toiling day and night,
Risking limbs and humour in oceans breaking white.
Skipper in the wheelhouse unshaven in his chair,
Wedged in with his coffee and chatting on the air,
Tending to his mission and watching out for ships,
Gulls are wheeling all about squabling for the bits.
Wet and water everywhere faces chapped and red,
Rolling and a pitching with spraying overhead,
Little change of clothing and soaking all the time,
Living in their oilskins amid the salty grime.
The gutting of the cargo and chipping of the ice,
Lacking sleep, uncomfortable, no lubber’s paradise,
Yearning for a dry bunk and warming bit of supper,
While freezing in the wind or rolling in the scupper.
Loud and noisy engines, pervading oily smell,
Dining on the `prime` they caught, every day as well,
Snagging of the gear then mending is a chore,
Still our island fishermen return again for more.
Whether in the Arctic or another scene,
Maybe out of Brixham, Hull or Aberdeen,
In wind and snow they sally forth into frequent squalls,
Accepting all conditions shooting out the trawls.
The nature of the job means uncertain pay,
Depending on the `fixer` and prices on the day,
A good catch shows a bonus when hauling safe and sound,
Thinking of a pint or two now they're homeward bound.
Hardy crews venture out to areas so vast,
Flying our red ensign whipping from the mast,
When you buy a bit of fish wherever it is sold,
Spare a thought for Trawlermen working in the cold.
Joe Earl
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Post by KEITH AT TREGENNA on Oct 27, 2008 23:32:18 GMT
THE FOX`LE OF THE DEAD
I will tell you of a story that is waiting to be told,
A yarn about a graveyard for mariners of old,
Placed in San Francisco lost to one and all,
Behind abandoned buildings with graffiti on the wall.
In a little valley, ringed around with trees,
By an old presidio that crumbled to it’s knees,
A Merchant Navy hospital long ago once stood,
With a cemetery well hidden and gravestones made of wood.
The place was just abandoned and left there to its fate,
Marked faintly on the map as `landfill number eight`,
A parking lot on one corner making lots of cover,
A tennis court, spread across making up another.
An archaeologist interested poking with a hoe,
Discovered under weeds, headstones in a row,
Excavations from a missile site had covered up the place,
With many feet of debris adding to disgrace.
Probing ever further they found this eerie plot,
Six hundred graves of seamen - and more, as like as not,
These crewmen of sailing ships entered Frisco bay,
Hard labour and T.B meant they never sailed away.
Many died when they were young as old records show,
The latest men interred there ninety years ago,
All were merchant mariners but no one seemed to care,
Several plots were unmarked and rubbish dumped on there.
A suitable memorable will be placed upon the site,
Explaining to the public the pauper seamen’s plight,
They will not be exhumed - powers that be have said,
There they will remain in the Fox`le of the Dead.
Joe Earl
Oct. 2008
We at Tregenna have full permission to use the works of Captain Joe Earl in tribute, we ask that you respect this work and contact us at Her Name Was SS. If you wish to reproduce any of the same, we will contact Joe on your behalf and request permission for you: hernamewas.ss@tiscali.co.uk
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Post by Keith at Tregenna on Oct 28, 2008 20:41:01 GMT
THEY DID NOT MAN THE BOMBERS
They did not man the bombers that rendered cities dead,
Or hurricanes and spitfires in dogfights overhead,
Nor fight the war as infantry pushing at the front,
Or as marine commandoes or paratroops that jump.
They did not form in ranks, divisions or platoons,
Or march along to `eyes right` with regimental tunes,
Civilian crews of seamen sailed to do their bit,
On coastal runs or convoys until their ship was hit,
A kitbag on the shoulder after travelling on the bus,
They stepped aboard a gangway with the minimum of fuss.
There was little recognition for men that risked their lives,
But heroes just the same as in trenches or the skies.
They sailed away on oceans with a puny little gun,
To face the lethal U-Boats sent out by the Hun,
They brought the cargoes home then returned for more,
Flying our red ensign all throughout the war.
Joe Earl
We at Tregenna have full permission to use the works of Captain Joe Earl in tribute, we ask that you respect this work and contact us at Her Name Was SS. If you wish to reproduce any of the same, we will contact Joe on your behalf and request permission for you: hernamewas.ss@tiscali.co.uk
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Post by KEITH AT TREGENNA on Nov 7, 2008 22:32:06 GMT
On POPPY DAY
On Poppy day I march again,
In wind or shine, sometimes rain,
For those who went and fought in wars,
Then gave their lives for some just cause.
Perhaps they fell in foreign lands,
Or lost at sea with all hands,
Each one answered freedom’s call,
Remember them - God bless `em all.
In silence then I blink my tears,
Side by side with medalled peers,
A surge of tribute uppermost,
At the sounding of `Last Post`.
On Poppy day we march again,
Stepping out to band’s refrain,
Veteran`s bearing justly proud,
Passing by the loyal crowd.
We at Tregenna have full permission to use the works of Captain Joe Earl in tribute, we ask that you respect this work and contact us at Her Name Was SS. If you wish to reproduce any of the same, we will contact Joe on your behalf and request permission for you: hernamewas.ss@tiscali.co.uk
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Post by KG on Jan 13, 2009 19:29:01 GMT
BAMSE (Pronounced Bum-sa`)
1937 – 1944
There’s many a dog that went to sea but one of fine renown
Was a hound that sailed with Norske Marine based at Montrose town,
He was a huge St. Bernard, who fought in world war two,
Owned by Captain Hafto who signed him on as crew.
Bamse was a great dog, braver more than most
Serving on a minesweeper fearless at his post
Wearing his tin-helmet he growled at German planes,
Standing by the Oerlikon among the shot and flames,
Word spread of his devotion and indifference under fire,
His exploits and adventures in those days so dire.
He saved a man from drowning, barking an alarm,
Jumping in the water then grabbing hold an arm.
He often caught a bus while roaming round alone,
Looking like he owned the place steaming on his own,
Calling in a Public House he’d shove the cat aside,
Slurping then a brew that someone else supplied.
He visited the local shops idling for a snack,
Children would adore him and ride upon his back.
He sometimes played in goal, when fooling on the grass,
But guardian of the gangway, he’d let no stranger pass.
He padded round the pubs before the night curfew,
Escorting back to duty his often rowdy crew,
One night he met a robber threatening human life,
So pushed him in the dock for brandishing a knife.
More than just a mascot and fighting seaman too,
He was a morale booster, tangible and true,
A statue of brave Bamse stands at the waterside,
One tribute to a man’s best friend, remembered here with pride.
Joe Earl
CHARLIE
I could have called him Sabre, Rex or maybe King,
He was a German Sheppard - a regal name for him,
But no, I called him `Charlie`, he answered to his call,
Big and black and beautiful, the proudest dog of all.
He guarded home and family, till I came home from sea,
Devoted and so loyal, he nuzzled up to me,
Later on, in old age, his hips would give him pain,
Then taking of his tablets he'd up and run again.
Eventually they wouldn't work, he flaked out on the lawn,
All night I kept him company, the pair of us forlorn,
It hurt too much to move him, we knew the end was nigh,
His love and comprehension looked me in the eye.
My pal, my friend, my trusted hound, I had to let you go,
That well remembered day - in May so long ago,
Nothing here on Earth, could make my sorrows drown,
That day I paid a local vet, to put old Charlie down.
Joe Earl
Best wishes to all, who have no doubt, suffered a similar experience. Cheers Joe x
We at Tregenna have full permission to use the works of Captain Joe Earl in tribute, we ask that you respect this work and contact us at Her Name Was SS. If you wish to reproduce any of the same, we will contact Joe on your behalf and request permission for you: hernamewas.ss@tiscali.co.uk
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Post by KG on Nov 4, 2010 23:19:55 GMT
I AM A WESTERN OCEAN MARINER THE NEW BOOK BY CAPTAIN JOE EARL. A COLLECTION OF SEAFARING VERSE (AND OTHER STUFF) In special memory of his brother John 1930 - 2004 MY POETRY I know it isn't poetry - it isn't even prose I'm really very sorry if it travels up your nose Shall we call it doggered? What do you suppose Joe Earl. Reproduced with the kind permission of Captain Joe Earl, please contact the publishers / author if you wish to reproduce any of the works of Joe Earl. We thank Joe for his continued friendship and indeed his support of "TREGENNA" . We are pleased to further support his old and new publications of his poems etc. I am a Western Ocean Man includes the Tregenna related: The Tregenna The SS. Daybreak The Paddle Steamer Barry Barry Seamen Barry Dock Loading Coal Raymond Victor Steed and so much more, we are indebted to Captain Joe Earl and support his past, current ad future works. Without doubt, we were pleased to meet up for the first time this year at the Barry Town Council presentation of the PS. Barry and hope that further projects will result in his immortalising the topic / subjects for all time. Every respect Joe and thank you, wishing you all the best in all future ventures. Regards from all at "Tregenna". KG |
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